


After Death

by bitterLeo



Category: Homestuck
Genre: Child Abuse, Child Death, Child Murder, F/F, Gay, Ghost Dave Strider, M/M, Murder, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Rarepair, Slow Burn, bro is a dick, cough cough dirknep is actually kinda cute
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-02-20
Updated: 2018-03-19
Packaged: 2019-03-14 12:06:50
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 2
Words: 2,651
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13589724
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/bitterLeo/pseuds/bitterLeo
Summary: Now while my lips are livingTheir words must stay unsaid,And will my soul rememberTo speak when I am dead?Yet if my soul rememberedYou would not heed it, dear,For now you must not listen,And then you could not hear.After Death - Poem by Sara Teasdale[S] Karkat: Put him to rest.Dave Strider has been dead for two years. Not even dying could get rid of him, cause now he's got some unfinished business to take care of. Karkat won't admit it, but he might be falling in love with a ghost.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Insert D E A D tag here

 

 

 

It was ironic, really. Dave Strider, rapper extraordinaire and a local heartthrob, was bleeding out on his bedroom floor alone. Or well, he wished he was alone. It was a better alternative to what was really happening. Bro crouched next to him, not a drop of blood on his clothes and not an emotion in his eyes. "You should have blocked it. I taught you better than that." A man of few words, truly. Dave lightly wheezed in response, his lips clearly trying to form words with a voice he didn't have. He did try to block it but, woe is me, he isn't fucking expecting to be attacked after taking a piss. His lips pressed into a thin line. He knew this was the end. Usually, they could just patch him up, but his wounds were too numerous and too severe. A slit throat is hard to hide after all. Unfortunately for Dave, Bro had missed his major veins and instead just destroyed his voice and made him bleed out much slower than he would of otherwise. Bro blinked and watched the door quietly.

Rich's footsteps thumped down the hall towards his room. "I got it, Derrick." His voice wavered slightly at the sight of blood and he motioned to the tarp bundled up in his arms. Bro nodded, "Lay it on the floor next to him, Richie." Dave watched the stout man do just that, only looking away when he felt his guardian (as if.) grip him by the armpit. Rich took Dave's legs and the two culprits together hoisted him up and onto the tarp. Everything stung when he felt the dirt on the canvas enter his injuries, cringing as they wrapped him up. As he felt the tarp and himself being dragged down the hall and towards the back porch he couldn't help but dissociate from what was happening. He thought of that algebra homework he lied about doing. About how he should have taken the offer to move in with Rose. About how the beat to his latest mix was some of his best work.

After what seemed like hours of being dropped and dragged and giving little cries of pain, the two men placed him down with finality. It smelt of the earth. 'So' He thought, 'they were in the woods.'. The canvas prison was once again shifted so he could see outwards. "Where are your shades," Bro asked, moving around just out of view. Dave took a chance and attempted to shrug. The amount of pain that shot through his body was a definite no. "S'too bad," Bro said, and Dave saw Rich turn around with a grimace. The man had never liked cuts and lacerations much. He was more of a bruises and broken bones type of sick. That was Dave's warning. Bro positioned himself over Dave, katana raised and pointed at the 17-year-old 's chest. There was a moment where everything stood still. The crows that nestled in the trees stopped cawing. The breeze ceased. Bro plunged the swords downwards just as Dave jerked forward and let out a scream that didn't sound quite human. It warbled and choked, and no recreation or movie scream would come close to the terror and agony it told of. The blade came down again, and again, again until it was deemed that no man could survive such injuries. 

Dave Strider's corpse was found a mile from his house by hikers three days later. He was observed in a shallow grave being picked at by crows. Cause of death: 9 stab wounds in the chest.

* * *

 

 

 

"Watch it, Ampora." The short boy growled, squeezing past Cronus in the hallway. Cronus didn't make any effort to make it easier for him to get by. "You could say excuse me, princess." Cronus quipped. Karkat didn't turn around, instead opting to click his tongue in frustration. "You could stop fucking my brother." Both true statements. A surprised gasp came from the kitchen, nearly making Karkat recoil into himself. He had two seconds to get away. "Karkat Vantas!" More like .2 seconds. "What Cronus and I do in the bedroom is none of your concern!" Kankri sputtered loudly from the kitchen. Cronus grinned and nodded, "What he said,". Karkat huffed and retreated to his room, closing the door with a quiet click. He really hated this.

Karkat slid down the back of his door, picking at the hem of his shirt. With a sigh, he began crawling underneath the bed.  He didn't like to be rude to Kankri as much as he did most others around him, he just couldn't help it. Moving across the entire country had been an interesting experience, to say the least. Karkat hated having to leave everybody in such haste.  The teen crawled over to his bed and pulled himself under it. He puffed out his cheeks and let his eyes trace patterns in the shag carpeting. A part of the carpet had clearly been removed and replaced, being a charcoal grey compared to the cream colour of the rest of the room. Karkat had a feeling he knew why. Okay, enough cryptic bullshit; Karkat definitely knew why.

At first, when his brother told him that the previous owner had a pet who'd thrown up and stained the carpet, he'd been willing to believe it. The time his curiosity was aroused was when a kid name Sollux elbowed him in the side with an uninterested look on his bus from school. God his 3D glasses were irritating. "Look, I know you don't know me, by the way, I'm Thollux with an eth, but thomebody hath gotta tell you," He'd lisped, somewhat hard to hear over the other bus-goers. "What, is somebody going to aggressively dance at me while snapping their fingers?" Karkat said, scrolling through youtube absently. "I mean, I don't know, that thounds like something Dave would do," Sollux replied, clicking his laptop closed with care. At that Karkat diverted a tad more of his attention towards Sollux. "Who the fuck is Dave?"

"The shade-wearing inthufferable prick who lived in your house."

"Why should I care about him?"

"I figured you'd like to know, conthidering he was murdered there," Sollux informed, tilting his head slightly. "Or at least, is speculated to. He could have lived long enough to get buried alive."

Karkat quickly pulled back from the conversation. "I.. that's a sick fucking joke ." He wasn't as relieved as he thought he'd be when his house came into view. "Buzz off then." Sollux shrugged as Karkat squeezed out of the seat and power walked down the aisle back to the house where somebody supposedly died violently.  The patch of carpet suddenly bothered him a lot more. Walking into his room and tossing his bag haphazardly on a swivel chair, Karkat noted how much colder it was in the room. The air continually bit his skin. A sense of dread washed over him as he did his math homework, he felt like somebody was lurking and waiting for him to turn his back. But how crazy would that be? 

It wasn't long before the nightmare began to plague him. Every time he would fall asleep he'd feel like he couldn't breathe, like every muscle screamed when he shifted. Then  _ **he**_  would stand over him, sword raised high.  _ **His**_  face was never seen, instead being disguised by a hat and pointy anime shades that Karkat had come to find intimidating. It was the weapon poised over his chest that made him queasy in the dreams. Karkat had become so afraid of the glinting metal that he'd screw his eyes shut every time he came face-to-stupid shades with the predator. The katana would dive downwards and he would feel a dull throb, but strangely enough, that was it. Just a ghost of pain that had existed in the past. Karkat woke up at 4;13 in the morning precisely and vomited one time after dreaming. Kankri and Cronus had tried to talk to him about it, but Karkat would (very suspiciously and definitely in a conspicuous manner) deflect their questions. It was nothing. He was fine. 

A few tense days and hellish nights passed. Sollux didn't say anything else about Dave.

That brings him to now. Laying on his back under the bed, the only warm area in his room. This was the first time he'd gone underneath and he was pleasantly surprised at its warmth at first. That wasn't the focus of his attention for long. Across the bottom of the mattress was a flap that was very deliberately cut. Karkat furrowed his eyebrows. "The fuck?" He said, hesitantly reaching into it. His fingers brushed against cardboard and plastic wrap. Pulling the item out, he was surprised to find a box of apple juice. The apple juice was long expired and quickly discarded before Karkat reached in again. This time he found a hard plastic that radiated heat. Puzzled, Karkat retrieved the item and shimmied from underneath the bed. A pair of sunglasses. Sollux had said that the... previous resident wore shades. "Are these yours, Dave?" Karkat whispered, not expecting an answer.

"Give them back." Karkat whirled around at the strained voice. A red-eyed boy his age was holding his hand out expectantly, leaning against the wall. Wounds marred his pale skin in every conceivable place. Blood stained his faded red and white shirt crimson. The boy's face was monotone but his eyes were sad. "My best bro gave 'em to me."

Speak of the devil and he shall come. 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I don't know how to format pesterlogs, hmu if ur the same.

What else was the boy to do but comply? Karkat rose to his feet, only coming up to Dave's collarbone, and almost mechanically handed the shades over. With a nod as his sign of gratitude, Dave looked them over before placing where they belonged on the bridge of his nose. For some reason, Karkat latched on to how it was slightly crooked. He'd broken it a couple times, probably. Karkat did another look-over of Dave, not because he was attractive (Karkat would never admit it, but Dave was attractive. However, Dave was dead so that would technically be necrophilia.), but because  _ holy shit _ there was a ghost in his bedroom. They stood there for a few seconds-maybe sizing each other up, but perhaps that was just Karkat. Then, Dave started to laugh. It started as a quiet rumble in his chest, before bubbling into full-blown laughter.

"I'm de-heh-heh-head! Dead!" He stuttered between breaths, bringing his hands up to his face and pushing the shades up. "B-but ah-ah-I'm alive!" Karkat looked on perplexedly as the boy's shoulders shook with-wait, was he crying? Karkat peered between his pale digits and saw Dave's eyes shut tight, tears of joy (or grief) betrayed the calm demeanor he had previously possessed. "Th-ay-ay-ey killed m-!" He choked for a moment as his breath hitched.

"Are you alright?" Karkat found his voice and reached out to touch Dave's shoulder. Dave's hands shot out and caught Karkat's wrist just before he made contact. Karkat gasped, and for a few seconds, Dave made no move to let go, recomposing himself and bumping his shades back into place. Ruby orbs flitted to where his iron grip had attached (He saw how his near snow white fingers and Karkat's light tan arm contrasted strongly.) and he sniffled once before releasing him. Dave mumbled a sorry.

"I'm just kinda jumpy right now." He explained apologetically. "What's your name?"

Karkat rubbed his wrist. "Karkat Vantas. Don't use any variation of it, including cat puns."

"Alright, Vantass. 'M Dave Strider." He replied, leaning against the closet door with his arm crossed. There were red blotches visible just below his shades.

Karkat rolled his eyes. “I know you know that’s not the correct fucking pronunciation and somehow it pisses me off more.” The phantom's lips twitched upwards. Once again the two lapsed into silence. Both wordlessly agreed that the topic of Dave's method of death could be told at a later date. Dave strode (Haha, get it?) over to the desk pushed into the corner of the room. Papers on various playwrights cluttered its surface and books (mostly trashy romance novels) were stacked precariously on the edge. Karkat couldn't quite get a view of what Dave had suddenly become so interested in. He followed after to see Dave observing a psychology textbook and Karkat's laptop with a thoughtful look on his face. It was almost as though he was

( _Dave, please_ )

remembering the ghost of something-

( _He's not a good person, he could_ )

or maybe somebody-

( _he could_ )

that loved

( _he could_ )

him more than the stars.

( _kill you_ )

But, that was just speculation. "Do you have pesterchum?" Dave peeled his eyes away from the book and looked over his shoulder to Karkat. Karkat raised his eyebrows. 

"Who would you want me to contact? Douche Bagans? Yes, I have pesterchum." 

"First off, do not disrespect Zak Bagans. My main man is doing his best to have adventures with ghosts. If Zak showed up here, I would hella EVP and he would get some sweet phrases such as 'put it in, daddy.' and 'Apple juice is my kink pass it on.'. Actually, I don't think that's allowed on TV." Karkat admired his ability to say such things with a straight face."Anyways, can I contact user tentacleTherapist. She's my sister, and she needs to know something." He pleaded.

"Can ghosts use computers?" Karkat asked, nodding in approval. Denying him this would be cruel.

"We better be." Dave said, taking a seat in Karkat's rolling chair. Karkat could see the chair through him, which was to be expected, he was a ghost. Dave clicked on pesterchum and logged in successfully. He let out a breath of relief. "I was worried it wouldn't work." Karkat picked up a book and pretended like he wasn't reading over Dave's shoulder while he checked his old messages. Then, the computer pinged. Somebody had noticed.

tentacleTherapist [TT] began pestering turntechGodhead [TG]

TT: My brother has been dead for two years. 

TT: Two long years.   

TT: I still haven't gotten over it, and you think you have the right to come here and bring it all back to me, reminding me that Dave will never come to visit in the summers again. 

TT: He'll never write another song or make another stupid joke that I'd go along with sarcastically. 

TT: You can't. 

Dave smiled sadly.

TG: rose 

TG: its me 

TT: No. 

TG: yes 

TG: the day before i died 

TT: Stop. 

TG: i considered your offer 

TG: i had just decided that i would message you in the morning to let you know i accepted 

TG: at 3 am i woke up to take a piss 

TG: bro attacked me and i maneuvered wrong 

TG: he slit my throat on accident and called richie 

TT: Please. 

TG: while i was still alive they carried me into the woods and stabbed me until i died 

Dave's hand's were shaking and Karkat caught a glimmer of tears on Dave's lashes. 

TG: but now im sort of back

TG: thanks to karkles

TG: hes a pretty cool dude and he accidentally brought my ghost back

TT: They never even connected Rich to the crime.

TT: Only the Strilondes knew of father's accomplices.

TT: Dave, I'm so sorry.

TT: I'm still skeptical. However, if there is anything dating a medium has taught me, it was that the dead aren't always dead.

TT: I'm marching over to your house with Kanaya tomorrow.

TT: If you're some kind of troll, I swear I will rip you to shreds.

TT: You'd best get offline before Dirk notices. He hasn't been handling it well.

TG: shit

TG: i love yall

TT: We love you too.

turntechGodhead [TG] is an idle chum!

Dave cried a little. Karkat did too. Rose Lalonde sobbed for her brother all over again. 


End file.
